Stealing Dalton
by SignsofSam
Summary: Blaine kissed him again, hard, fast, desperate, seeking and searching for…for warmth, for comfort, for love, and Kurt couldn't deny him that.


**Title:** Stealing Dalton

**Disclaimer: **I do not own. Ryan Murphy does. Sigh.

**Words: **~1580

**Author's Note:** So, I have no clue where this came from. It's my attempt at a transfer fic, and though I'm _pretty_ sure it's not in the realm of possibility of ever happening (me? Not a clue about banking besides a general checking and saving account), here it is. Please review if you have the time!

On another note, this is part of the Acceptance!verse (Follows _Love_).

**Stealing Dalton**

Kurt loved the Anderson house. He knew that Blaine's father had money, and that though some of it was old money, Mr. Anderson had earned most of his fortune. He knew that back when Blaine had been born and the Anderson family had been (relatively) happy, they lived in some ginormous mansion on a lake. He also knew that when Blaine's mom had left them and after Blaine's bashing, Blaine and his father had made the mutual decision to move.

Blaine said they had "downsized", but the house they lived in was opulent to Kurt. It was still by a lake, with relatively few houses beside it. It had a grand driveway that required a password to open the gate that enclosed it, was surrounded by a nine-foot-tall wrought iron fence.

The house was all brick, with a gorgeous porch and a stain-glass front door. The foyer had an entrance to the alcove with a piano (a gorgeous piano that Kurt and Blaine had put to good use, both literally—watching Blaine's fingers flying over the keys? Best. turn on. ever.—and figuratively—after watching Blaine's fingers? Best. makeout. session. ever.). There was a huge kitchen with gorgeous floors and stainless steel appliances and a huge island and a great eat-in area with floor-to-ceiling windows. A family room with leather couches and a huge TV (the place where Daniel had first caught them making out), warm and inviting. There was a formal living room, but it was used as the library (they had a formal living room in the _other_ house, Blaine explained once through gentle kisses and touches, and his mother entertained her _guests_ there and Blaine wasn't allowed to go in the room. He shuddered to think who the _guests _really were) that could have rivaled Dalton's.

Blaine's bedroom was on the second floor, at the end of the hallway. It was huge, and had windows that overlooked the lake and a door that led to a private balcony. It was a dark blue color, which suited Blaine, and the walls were covered with posters of favorite plays and favorite movies, playbills stuck in nooks and crannies. Blaine's desk was settled in front of a large picture window, his guitar beside the desk. Scattered sheet music was _everywhere_. Kurt often had to fight the urge to clean while in Blaine's room, but it was so _Blaine_ that he couldn't fault his boyfriend for the mess.

Especially when said boyfriend was on top of him, running teeth over the sensitive, pale skin of Kurt's neck, biting just below the collar bone. Kurt twisted, glaring at the boy. "No. No bruises. No hickeys. Not anywhere."

"But _Kurt_," Blaine whined, and Kurt let out a huffed laugh, rolling his eyes, pulling Blaine back to him. He sought out Blaine's lips, biting lightly on the bottom one as they kissed, one hand trialing through Blaine's curls and _tugging_, making Blaine quiver above him.

"I love you," Kurt murmured, his hands pushing Blaine's cardigan off, tossing it across the room. Blaine grinned, shaking his head. "What?"

"If I ever did that to one of your precious pieces of clothes-"

"You'd be dead," Kurt finished for him. "But we both know you don't care about clothes like I-"

Even from the bedroom, from behind the bedroom door, they could hear the front door open, and Blaine groaned, pushing off Kurt. "If my dad catches us like this, he's going to skin me alive."

"He's starting to sound like my dad more and more every day," Kurt murmured, watching Blaine retrieve his cardigan, put it back on.

"I think it's all the time they've been spending together," Blaine answered, opening his door. "He'll probably want to grab dinner with us, if you don't mind. He's been at work a lot lately, late hours and stuff, so he'll probably want to catch up. If…if that's okay?" He glanced at Kurt. "If not, it's okay. You can go-"

Kurt shook his head, hurrying to catch up to Blaine, grabbing his hand. "I'd love to stay."

Except, when they go downstairs, hand-in-hand, they encounter Mr. Anderson and a glass of scotch from the stockpile of alcohol in the kitchen that is barely used, rarely touched. He looks disheveled, tired, older than Kurt or Blaine could remember. "Dad? Are you…is everything okay?" Blaine asked in a whisper, dropping Kurt's hand.

Daniel jumped, surprised, his glass slamming onto the counter, untouched. "I'm sorry, buddy."

Blaine shook his head, coming closer. "About what? The scotch? Just because mom was an alcoholic doesn't mean you don't deserve to have some every now and then."

"I…we're going to have to rethink Dalton. For next year."

Blaine stopped talking, his eyes shooting up to Kurt's, and, for a moment, all Kurt could see was the panic in them. "Why? What-"

"Seems your mother, in all her infinite wisdom, wiped out your school fund on her last…trip home," Daniel replied. Blaine knew that his father was very particular when it came to his money; he had a certain amount earmarked for the mortgage, another amount for the bills, utilities and other necessities, another for Dalton tuition, Blaine's college money. From what Blaine knew of the accounts, there wasn't enough to compensate for a loss in _any_ of the funds. "The accountant told me it was empty when I went to go get the money to pay. She just…she took everything. I don't know why-"

Blaine felt Kurt squeezing his hand, and he sighed, shaking his head. "Why didn't anyone tell us? Aren't they supposed to-"

"Your mom's name is still on the account; all she needs is the card to get into them." Daniel took a sip of the scotch, clearly nervous. "That _will_ be changing. I am so sorry, son. I never thought she would stoop this low. I gave her everything she wanted in the divorce; I never thought-"

"It's okay, Dad. I can…we're in the McKinley school district; I can just go there," Blaine said calmly, feeling Kurt's fingers on his wrist. "I can…I can adapt. She didn't take the money that pays for the house or the money that we use to buy groceries with. She could have taken a lot more and we could be a lot worse off."

Kurt smiled softly at his boyfriend, pride swelling. Only Blaine would find some bright spot in this disaster.

"She took _your _money, Blaine."

"Is my college fund still there?"

Daniel eyed his son, nodding. "Of course. Only you can touch that."

"Then she can have the Dalton money if she's so desperate that she's stealing from us. And now we know we have to protect ourselves from my…my mother," the word is whispered harshly, and it made Kurt's fingers tighten against Blaine's, a silent _courage_ whispered from the tips. Blaine took a breath, as if he got the message, and continued on. "I went to public school once before, and I can survive through it for a year. I'm stronger now than I ever was then; I've got Kurt now, and I've got my friends and Kurt's friends, and I won't let them bully me for being something that isn't wrong."

"And you're sure?"

"I'm sure, Dad."

"Okay. I'll start the withdrawal process tomorrow."

Blaine nodded, pulling away from Kurt to wrap his dad in a hug, leaning his head on his shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Dad. I love you."

The words…oh, the words Blaine never said. The words Daniel knew he should be thanking Kurt for; the words were something else Julia stole from her son. "I love you too, Blaine. Now, how do you feel about grabbing dinner? You too, Kurt, if you're not busy."

"I'd love to, Mr. Anderson," Kurt answered, his hand once again finding Blaine's, fingers tightening as they intertwined.

Daniel poured the drink down the sink, picking up his briefcase. "Let me go put all this stuff down, and then we'll go."

Blaine watched his father go, turning to Kurt once he had disappeared upstairs. "I hate her so much sometimes. I shouldn't, but she…she destroyed me when she left, destroyed him, and now she's doing it all over again."

Kurt leaned in, kissing him softly. "She doesn't know what she's missing, Blaine. One day, probably not any time soon, but one day, she'll realize it's all gone, her family is gone, and it's all her fault."

Blaine kissed him again, hard, fast, desperate, seeking and searching for…for warmth, for comfort, for love, and Kurt couldn't deny him that. Because Blaine deserved all the warmth and all the comfort and all the love Kurt could give because it was what he gave to everyone else, even if certain people didn't appreciate it at the moment. Blaine gave all of himself every day, and he deserved to get some of it back.

When they pulled apart, Kurt couldn't help but smile. "You're transferring."

Blaine smiled back, a softer, smaller, less enthused smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I'm transferring."

"To McKinley."

Blaine's smile grew, more bright, more enthused. "To McKinley."

"With me."

And there it was, that beautiful, megawatt smile that Kurt was used to and so glad to once again see. "With you. I'm going to McKinley with you."


End file.
